


I Know What You Think in the Morning (When the Sun Shines on the Ground)

by ofdaffodilsandmoonlight



Category: Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 - Malloy, Voyná i mir | War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
Genre: Angst, Canon Era, Dont expect regular updates, Fedrey - Freeform, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Modern AU, One Shot Collection, a lot of these fics stem from synesthesia so each fic has associated colors, i might start work on another Big fic but who knows, i say as if i ever write? anything?, its fun, probably majority fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2019-08-26 12:11:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16681393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofdaffodilsandmoonlight/pseuds/ofdaffodilsandmoonlight
Summary: collection of... things i write? for fedrey? really just expect a lot of Andrey Bolkonsky Thinking





	1. One Cannot Say Everything One Thinks, Mon Cher

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Saffiaan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saffiaan/gifts).



> light pink and peach

In truth, Andrey didn’t need a letter of proof for Fedya’s love, but that was never to say he didn’t savor every word.  
  
_More than words_ , he thought, the warm, relaxed weight of Fedya’s head on his shoulder, his actions said everything he needed to hear, whether he knew it or not __  
  
Moments before, they’d been making light conversation, and Andrey once again found himself considering how this- this man, this relationship- had changed his life. What would have become of him, had he declined the first offer of a date.   
  
How on earth he could refuse, knowing and furthermore, having experienced what he had by now, was beyond him.  
  
The thing was, had he chosen to live that life out, he wouldn’t know what the hell he was missing out on.  
  


In the letter, Andrey recalled, Fedya had expressed a sliver of surprise in his not choosing to pursue what he thought would be more… traditional. Though honestly, if he was comparing Fedya’s wonder and surprise at their situation in the letter to slivers and shards, a fine amount of the letter was a shattered vodka bottle (and maybe the vodka itself was their relationship. As Fedya described it- new to him, the warmth of it burning, in a way- Andrey saw it fitting).   
  
But Fedya was thankful for it, Andrey believed that. He trusted Fedya.   
  
In trusting Fedya, he was more than content, happy. In the way Fedya looked at him, he saw the words of the letter ring nothing but truth. Even now, Fedya’s fingers combing through the curls atop Andrey’s head with a gentleness that might have stunned a stranger, he could practically hear a breathed  _ ‘I love you’  _ in Fedya’s voice.   
  
It was a voice he was certain would be burned into his brain through this lifetime and the next, and the next, and so forth, and perhaps it had been, through whatever lives he might have lived before.   
  
Here, he may as well have died and ascended. Maybe this life was whatever could be considered heaven. He had half a mind to say that to his husband, but knew better than to suggest his own death here, aside from what felt like his heart in his throat restraining him from so much as breathing a syllable.    
  
In short, he wouldn’t trade Fedya for all the stars in the sky in any universe, and the feeling of the concept was simply too profound to write out.       

 


	2. Its Only a Matter Of Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dark blue and greys

Andrey didn’t want to wake up that morning.

Not as in he wanted to die in his sleep, per se, but because he knew they would have to depart soon. And he knew they would never reunite.

It had been a good while since he and Fedya had started sleeping together like this, just sleeping. Waking up with entangled legs, arms, fingers. Holding onto every ounce of warmth.

Not that he wanted to open his eyes in the first place, the world would still be colourless anyway, but he was unable to with his face pressed to Fedya’s back.

He knew, from the day before, that he was going to die in Borodino.

He’d been sitting alone on his makeshift bed in this very barn- Fedya out getting the arguably usual “nourishment” that was the food they had there- looking out through a crack in the wood, a small space where the planks hadn’t connected.

And he saw the world without him, and saw that it would be so.

He’d tried to explain it to Fedya upon his return- not that he could bring himself to utter all his thoughts, at any point- and watched the mask of acceptance he put on.

Fedya tried to act normal the rest of the day, but how could he?

Fedya laid in Andrey’s arms, staring blankly at the slowly brightening space before him, unsure when he woke up, unsure how he’d even slept.

 

The night following, Fedya had found where Andrey was being held, and, what’s more, found him to be in quite a different state, even then.. so soon.

The prince would die in Fedya’s arms, having mumbled something to him before, something Fedya couldn’t bring himself to reply to- his lungs wouldn’t let him, his eyes would give in- and Fedya would, only with great difficulty, be able to let go the one man he ever thought he could truly love.

 

They had run out of time.


	3. Oh How He Blushes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The closest I’ll get to a crackfic

“Happy Birthday,”

The words weren’t even addressed to Fedya, but to the woman standing before him, his Sonya, who turned around. This provided a perfect window to who had actually spoken.

“Breakfast is ready.”

Andrey Bolkonsky.

They hadn’t seen the prince in some time, a few days, maybe a week, maybe more, who gave a damn about time anyway?

Certainly not Fedya.

Not when his eyes were locked- whether against his will or not he wasn’t certain- on the taller man’s smile, the way he was dressed- he’d clearly been in the kitchen, so some of the food that awaited would have been made by his own hands, should be interesting. To his own surprise, he found himself thinking whatever the food would be, it would probably be at the very least, decent- and when he couldn’t help but feel... relief, was it? At the sight of Andrey being back.

Fedya, too, may have had a few questions, but it was likely Sonya would ask them or they’d become unimportant or irrelevant, so he kept his mouth shut.

It wouldn’t have helped his speaking, anyway, how Sonya embraced him and, in turn, Andrey wrapped his arms around her.

Fedya hadn’t really been one to waste energy on feeling self conscious, but since he’d gotten back from the hospital, it became apparent just how much weaker he was, and now, in contrast with those arms, that man, Fedya felt significantly lighter. Andrey could easily pick him up from that seat, if, absurd as the action may be, he wanted to.

He stopped his mind from wandering. That could get weird. Why was he even thinking all this anyway?

His vision refocused, and he found the man looking at him, waiting for him to walk into the other room first, the remains of a bright smile still clinging to his lips, a warmth still in his eyes, his shoulders relaxed as they could be, in this company.

He was still waiting.

Fedya quickly got to his feet, silently cursing himself for staying in that trance so long, but the feeling of lightness persisted, and, in the other room and unable to resist, subconsciously, he turned back to look at Andrey, who had quickly found a seat at the table.

The brunet looked up at him, and somehow, for some god forsaken reason Fedya sure as hell didn’t care to know, his breath caught, and his vision went dark.


	4. See You Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> soft orange and blue. dark grey.

3 hours. 3 hours until he absolutely had to get in the car and  follow the address to Andrey’s house.

Fedya knew there was no use worrying about it now- like the last date, it would work out or it wouldn't. For all he cared, he could end this now, call Andrey and say he had other plans, was sick, or some bullshit like that.  
But then again, why would he?

The first date had been, quite literally, a walk in the park. Nothing fancy. And Andrey had seemed so.. so enraptured simply by being outside.

Fedya chuckled to himself, not that there was anyone else in the house.

His mind jumped quickly to how Andrey had asked, had initiated the conversation about a second date. Simple enough; Andrey didn’t want them to give up just yet, so of course he asked.

Just another date, for now.

 

It had been later, after the date, when Fedya had dropped Andrey off at his place again, and, arm half resting, half ready to pull away, on the center console of fedyas car, andrey had turned to ask this of Fedya.

Dinner, a few days later, back here.

And how Andrey had looked at that point, too, was something Fedya had maybe secretly deep down hoped he wouldn’t forget.

The sun had long set by then, and the clouds, having begun to build since they had arrived at the park, released their rains upon the world carelessly. The lights in the driveway reflected and blurred off of the unreachable droplets on the windshield of Fedyas car, splaying that light and color onto Andrey’s skin and shirt while further raindrops tapped lightly at the glass and on the roof. The wind was relatively calm. They were both dry and warm.

Even with the color, Andrey was clearly a bit flushed, and treaded lightly with words when he asked Fedya.

And Fedya found it impossible to deny him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all comments and kudos are appreciated :)


	5. What’s it like to kiss you?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hot pink, purple, green, white, light blue

It seemed to andrey the days until his next date with fedya couldn’t pass fast enough. After even just a day, it felt like he hadn’t seen the man in a week, and the fact that he felt such a way about this one man alone was… well, fairly new. Especially when it was one man who was more than just a friend.  
  
Which reminded him, while he was watering a select few plants in the store he owned, that they hadn’t so much as kissed yet. That thought was enough to make Andrey pause before finally setting down the container holding the water and sitting down himself. He had a while to spare, as the shop wasn’t very busy this time of day, and his brain decided it was best to take advantage of this time to consider all possibilities. Who was Andrey to deny it, anyway?  
  
Who would initiate it, anyway?  
  
_It was subtle, and yet so sudden. Of course it was warm, they were sitting on the couch, two blankets over them both- why be separate when body heat was, well, heat?- Andrey’s left arm draped over the back of Fedya’s shoulders, Fedya’s head resting in the space between Andrey’s shoulder and chest. It seemed they’d thought the same thing at the same time, and then Fedya was looking calmly yet curiously up at him, and Andrey’s gaze flitted between Fedya’s eyes and lips, grasping at whatever he could of Fedya’s expression, unsure whether he’d make the move, unsure if it was the right time. The stillness lasted long enough for Andrey to grasp the courage and lean in, eyelids falling shut with the motion-_  
  
What would it even feel like?

  _Gentle, but almost immediately responsive. Fedya’s lips weren’t surprisingly warm or anything, but.. they were Fedya’s. And Andrey was suddenly conscious of his heart, which drummed against his chest in a way it hadn’t in some time, and made it impossible to feel any sort of cold. His hands moved to rest lightly against Fedya’s neck, one moving just enough to feel his jaw and the surrounding muscles work slightly as the kiss lasted, along with the beard that hid and yet somehow perfectly defined the man’s jawline._

 

He didn’t know. It was only Thursday, and Andrey had customers to help now.


	6. Spring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They lay on the forest floor, and Andrey does what Andrey does most: think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little something from Saff and I's future au. Andrey is leading a rebellion and Fedya escaped from the government's custody after being experimented on for 20-some years (in short, a cyborg, but so much more).

Defined with the most nuanced of detail, sunbeams and a breeze fell with leaves through the forest canopy. Joined harmoniously by the songs of birds that flitted about the branches, the forest exposed its peace. This was the only tranquility that would clear Andrey’s head while snowflakes whipped in storms around the government buildings and the civilians that blindly upheld it.

 

He almost felt guilty for being able to rest in the warm dirt, but it wasn’t as though he hadn’t sworn the remainder of his days to ensuring the government’s downfall. 

 

To that, and to the owner of the comfortable weight on his chest, Fedya.

 

They had been married in this exact spot, the newly bloomed flowers and undergrowth bearing witness, so early in the spring, the colors they bore dancing with pride and promise. Had Andrey not been walking with his heart in his throat then, he still could never have eloquently described the imagery to another being. 

 

Fedya’s head was bowed in the slightest, witness to the scene with a subconscious, helpless light grin as he heard Andrey make his way forward. Stop before him. Release the breath he’d been holding.

 

It took Andrey about 11 seconds- when standing in that patch of warm light- to think that, eyes or not, Fedya had somehow managed to stare into his soul. Fedya had pulled his heart into clear view, and Andrey had no choice but to let him hold it.

 

Andrey couldn’t possibly let anyone else try.

 

In all honesty, he’d never predicted that anyone  _ would _ try, or that he would let himself be in love again after the death of his wife and dedication to ending the system that ultimately resulted in the death of his whole family. But it had only taken Fedya a little over a year to convince him that otherwise could be true, to convince him that that would be okay, and even great.

 

The full realisation hit him like a falling tree, and with the vows spoken, Fed’s hands ever so gently caressing his face as they kissed, the tears that had threatened to spill before did just that. 


	7. Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fedya has one fear... okay maybe two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Modern au

With the first rumble of thunder, Andrey looked at the clock, and thankfully was able to leave the shop by the clock’s statement. It had been raining for the past three hours, and Andrey was spared none of the storm’s intensity as he made his way to his car. 

The drive home was 5 minutes, and were it not for the rain warning, he’d have walked.

Once there, he didn’t even need to speak; he knew Fedya would be in their room, unable to hear him over the sound of whatever music he was blasting through earbuds. The walk upstairs proved him right, and he grabbed a pair of clothes to change into after drying off. Fedya spared him a glance. 

Within seconds, he was seated next to his husband, against pillows and the headboard of the bed, and in even less time, Fedya had his arms around Andrey. Andrey held him tightly enough, an air of protectiveness about him, and felt hands fist in his sweatshirt.

Thunder bared it’s disdain, now closer to their home, close enough to make it rattle as if it, too, was afraid, and for a moment Andrey forgot they were on stable land at all.

He imagined what this storm would be like out at sea, perhaps to a sailor who’d picked the wrong day to make that journey. Perhaps that sailor was Fedya, he imagined, and he’d be forced to act in a situation that would usually have him frozen where he stood. Rain would pelt him and the ship, every wave holding his fate and a possible overturn in its force, the thunder a cruel taunt, a malicious laugh when he survived, and the wind making it nearly impossible to know which way was where.

A flash of lightning out the window snapped him out of his thoughts, and the house seemed to hold him as he held Fedya.


End file.
